


The Golden Year

by C-chan (1001paperboxes)



Category: In Other Lands | The Turn of the Story - Sarah Rees Brennan
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28257066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/pseuds/C-chan
Summary: A look into the final year at Border camp, from Golden's arrival, to the fated coin toss.
Relationships: Elliot Schafer/Luke Sunborn, Golden & Elliot Schafer & Serene & Luke Sunborn, Golden-Hair-Scented-Like-Summer & Elliot Schafer, Golden-Hair-Scented-Like-Summer & Myra of the Diamond Clan, Golden-Hair-Scented-Like-Summer/Serene-Heart-in-the-Chaos-of-Battle
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28
Collections: Books of Yule





	The Golden Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silveradept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/gifts).



"But Commander, we're supposed to have our own dorms in final year."

"I'm well aware of camp protocol, Cadet Schafer," Commander Woodsinger replied, running a hand through her close-cropped curls. "I am also aware of who the most likely person is to flaunt them. The company of an elven gentleman might do you some good."

"But he's Serene's betrothed!"

"And we do not formally assign mixed dormitories. No matter how much people choose to break that guideline anyway."

"Luke's probably ace—"

"And if you can't keep your hands away from your ex's betrothed, that's between you and them. Not me."

"What if I—"

"My decision is final, Schafer. Dismissed."

" _Fine..._ "

And that is how Elliot found himself sharing a dorm with Golden-Hair-Scented-Like-Summer during his final year at Border camp.

* * *

Okay, if he absolutely _had_ to admit it? Golden wasn't a bad roommate.

There was a bit of awkwardness; it was clear that Golden still assumed him a bit of a floozy at first, but he was always polite, if stiff.

When he was around, anyway.

Golden often was absent at night, and Elliot found himself thinking both of the tent that he and Serene had shared at the edge of camp two years prior, and the way in which Commander Woodsinger had casually acknowledged, but not seemed to greatly care, about the fact that students tended to sleep together. (Probably a longstanding camp tradition, he guessed.)

Part of him was jealous. Even after everything, he missed being with Serene, even knowing it wasn’t bound to last. And even seeing first-hand how obnoxiously sweet an elf couple Serene and Golden made. But there were benefits as well. He and Luke had plenty of time to be alone themselves, to talk and to kiss and to cuddle, and on the odd occasion, to preen Luke’s wings. That was as far as Luke was comfortable going, the prude, (or the ace—he’d never specifically asked, but occasionally teasing him about his prudishness was much more up his alley) but it was far enough. The intimacy of wing cleaning was something that Harpies took very seriously. And even if Luke had little interest in learning of that part of his heritage and culture, Elliot revelled in getting to share in the gesture, to feel Luke melt at his touch, and to tell him bits and pieces of half-harpy history that he’d picked up in his studies, above and beyond what he’d put in the primer.

Elliot was actually surprised that his dorm wasn’t neater with the elven gentleman around. And, to be fair, Golden’s side generally was immaculate. But he absolutely refused to clean up Elliot’s messes, stating that “a gentleman must be responsible for his own affairs.” Which was fair, he supposed. Still, he’d kind of wished that he’d gotten a house-gentleman out of the arrangement, if he was being forced to share at all.

But even for the stiffness, and for having to do his own chores, Golden was one of the better people he’d been forced to share a room with over the years.

So overall, he considered it a draw.

* * *

As was somewhat expected, "certain select classes" mainly meant counsel course classes. Someone would probably have held an apoplectic fit if an elven gentleman had actually joined the warrior course. Possibly several people, for that matter, starting with Golden's parents (who had already sent letters of extreme concern once they'd learned of his location after essentially running away and eloping) all the way down to possibly Serene herself.

Serene, at least, was seeming less likely to stay on that list every day as she settled into the idea that Golden enjoyed the idea of being brave and chivalrous as well as beautiful and quick-witted. Elliot didn't blame her at all—he was finding himself liking his roommate more and more every day as well. And it was Serene, after a few weeks of ruminating on the idea, who finally suggested it was time to begin Golden in on his private weaponry lessons.

It was interesting, watching the various expressions crossing Serene's face as she and Luke set up to teach Golden the basics of javelins: pride at her betrothed for taking this on, horror at a gentleman wanting to participate in such a bloody sport, the sort of half-serious, half-cheerful, friendly camaraderie that showed whenever she worked in tandem with her swordsister.

The conflict of interest between pride and bewilderment only grew when it came time to take Golden through the motions directly. There was intimacy as Serene corrected Golden’s posture and showed him the correct way to hold the javelin in his still-soft hands. There was regret in knowing that, should he continue with his practice, the hands would become calloused and rough; the hands of a warrior. There was poorly-masked amusement when Golden proved rather bad at throwing, unused to the weight or the motions needed to properly throw.

“It’s fine,” Elliot assured him. “Javelins are stupid anyway.”

“No-one’s perfect on their first day,” Serene assured Golden, hands tracing the line of his jaw as his lips drew into a pout. “We shall continue another day.”

Privately, Elliot was fairly certain that Luke had never poorly thrown a javelin in his life, and Serene probably hadn’t either.

“I suppose,” Golden said. “Though I daresay, it would be nice to have another form of self-defence I could draw upon, should I prove truly unsuited to this method after all.”

Luke frowned, looking between Golden and the various armaments mounted upon their storage spaces wall. 

“I think I have an idea.”

* * *

The rapier was beautiful and ornate, light and slim. It looked almost as though it had always belonged in Golden’s hand.

And while javelins had been entirely foreign to Golden’s abilities, the formal dance lessons in finishing school prepared him well for the basics of fencing.

“I can’t say we use these a lot on the battlefield,” Luke admitted, as he exchanged a simple pattern of strikes with Golden, letting his body learn by heart the basics, “but rapiers remain one of the most common hidden weapons today. Many retired warriors carry one of these, or similar, in a sword cane as a last resort. And once you’ve learned the basics here, gotten used to the feel of a light sword in your hands, we can try you on something a little heavier.

“I’d like that,” Golden replied, exchanging the blows with relative ease.

And oh, it was unfair, both that an elven gentleman was more interested in war than he was, and that Golden was actually _good_ at part of it. At least with the javelins, Elliot had thought he’d had a chance of converting Golden right to the pacifist side.

But hey, at least he was challenging gender norms in a way that made Bright Eyes tut every time they passed in the halls these days.

So hey; at least there was a good side to all this.

* * *

The council curriculum was much more Elliot's domain, and made him feel much less like hurling himself off a cliff than watching battle training ever did. Even _if_ the sword dance of the rapiers was oddly beautiful to watch. (He tried not to think about how he enjoyed the aesthetic of both Luke _and_ Golden as they exchanged attacks and parries, as well as that of Serene when she stepped in, almost all in equal measure.)

Somewhere between his private tutoring lessons with Serene and Luke, and the time he'd been forced to teach first-years history and mapmaking, and the hours he'd spent surrounded by books and being half-distracted by a far more aesthetic form of swordplay than he was used to, Elliot figured out the essentials needed to catch just about anyone up on Borderland history, politics, and mapmaking from an interspecies, if human-centric, perspective.

First, of course, he needed to find out where the gaps in Golden's knowledge laid.

That came in fits and starts at first; a bit of observation in class, seeing what notes that Golden furiously struggled down as the teachers went over stuff that Elliot had taught himself in the library his second year, a bit of quizzing Golden on the nights he _did_ sleep in the dorms, to see how far his knowledge went. He tried doing the same sort of quizzing that he did with Serene once, throwing questions as Luke attacked in their rhythmic pattern, but seeing how close Golden came to being stabbed more than once, and how flummoxed he seemed to be, it was clear that Golden was not yet used enough to the physical demands of fighting to be a multitasker.

And so instead they gathered in their dorm. Or Luke's, or sometimes Serene's; taking use of the privacy so as not to deprive other students of the bookable study space. And he'd lay out books and maps and charts, and lecture and quiz for hours, throwing compliments for particularly well-made maps or brilliant answers, and turning wrong answers into jokes when he was able.

"Remind me again why I'm here?" Luke asked one of the first nights, as he hefted a stack of books onto the table.

"Because if I'm going to be going out with a warrior, he'd better be the most brilliant warrior across these otherlands," Elliot replied easily, leaving out the 'idiot' for once. "Besides, I need someone to carry these books for me. They weigh a _ton_."

Golden, for the most part, knew his way around the maps, though he only knew the Elvish name for most locations. But that meant that they could trade information as they went. Golden taught Elliot the elven name for all the woods, rivers, and mountains, and sometimes individual trees and rocks of particular significance, and Elliot made sure he knew the human names, knew the history of how they'd gotten them, including commentary on far too many bloody and idiotic battles that Luke often protested, and even taught a little of what laid beyond the wall.

"Chanukah sounds fascinating," Golden admitted one day, "but I'm not sure I understand how to spell it."

Elliot shrugged. "Nobody does."

What he hadn't counted on was Myra coming up to them one day after a particularly boring and probably inaccurate lecture on oceanic mermaid territory.

"I heard you were going over maps in Elvish and human," she said. "I was wondering, could I join in too? I'd be glad to tell you some of the dwarven names…."

* * *

Golden, as it turned out, was fascinated by Dwarven culture.

"They're clan system seems so much like our own, and yet so backwards," Golden explained. "No offence met, of course. And I'm glad that they understood the strength of a lady of dwarven blood, such as yourself, enough to allow you to study in such a place as this."

Myra went pink, gladly accepting the praise.

"You both have such interesting traditions around braiding, too; did you know?" Elliot asked. "I mean, it's not something I've done a lot of research into, because, well…." he pointed at his own hair, that if anything, was _less_ controllable after five years of living on this side of the Border. "But I've definitely read about it, and it sounds fascinating."

"Oh, it is," Golden agreed easily. "If done correctly, and with the right eye and audience, you can hide a great amount of information inside of such simple decoration."

Myra beamed. "I'd love to learn what you mean!"

* * *

Okay, maybe setting Myra and Golden on the subject of braiding had been a mistake.

On the plus side, he'd learned that even his hair could be tamed with the right combination of brushing and flat braids against his scalp. On the other, they were giving him a headache, and getting them out again was sure to give him more of one.

"I like Myra," Golden admitted from his bed, giving a private, non-Finishing School-level smile as Elliot continued to tease the braids out. "Do you think she'd teach me more about Dwarven custom?"

"Probably," Elliot replied. "Just. Leave my hair out of it next time."

* * *

Golden's javelin hit the target for the first time, and Serene whooped the loudest of any of them in celebration.

* * *

With all the lessons; swordmanship with Luke, javelins with Serene, cultural exchange with Myra, and maps and military history with himself, Elliot never expected Golden to want to teach _him_ anything, let alone have the time.

And yet, there Golden was, a small basket of what looked suspiciously like quills and ink in his hands, and Elliot had to keep himself from groaning.

"I understand that you're one of the best treatise makers of an age, despite your young age," he explained. "However, your writing is, quite frankly, atrocious. And however well-worded a document may be, I'd think that people will be even more favourable if it's well-worded and presented in an elegant package as well, wouldn't you agree?"

Elliot, truthfully, couldn't say otherwise.

And that's how he began taking calligraphy lessons with Golden.

It was almost like art, relearning the letters with him; how to properly form an A, how to control the loop of a series of O's, and make all the letters of "minimum" distinct. How to do it all repeatedly and consistently, and yet still leave the option for embellishment at the right places, to make each piece suit its purpose.

And perhaps he'd never like it as much as he did writing with a good old fashioned BIC pen or a very sharp pencil, but for official documents, he could definitely see its worth.

"Now, if only we could teach women like Serene the basics of writing a good letter," Golden mused. "Until you began instructing her, they were beautiful in form, in a rugged sort of way, but atrocious in format."

Elliot laughed. "I know exactly what you mean."

* * *

"The end of the year is approaching far too fast," Serene said one night as they sat in front of her quarters, her voice almost wistful as she looked out at the stars. "My parents have both written me with heartfelt, though conflicting, advice on what I should do next."

"Mine too," Luke cut in. "I just got one from my mom today, actually. She gave me a note to give to you too, Elliot."

"What?" Elliot asked. "Give it to me! You better not have read it."

"I haven't. It's in my dorms," Luke replied. "Come with me after and you can take it back with you."

"Fair," Elliot granted. "What _do_ we want to do, though?"

It was Golden who spoke up next, surprising all of them.

"While I do have some ideas, I will say. Where we go matters far less than the idea of us all four staying together: my beloved, her swordsister, and his beau; my three most cherished friends."

"We even come above Myra?" Elliot asked.

"Well, she'd be fourth," Golden admitted, going slightly pink about the ears.

"I do like the sound of that, though," Serene admitted. "The thought of parting ways sounds nearly unthinkable now, after everything."

"Then it's settled," Elliot said, knowing that Luke already agreed (though it was more fun not giving him the chance to speak). "Wherever we ride, we ride together."

* * *

"All right," Luke said, procuring a gold coin from his pocket as they debated where they'd begin their lives together. "Where are we going? Call it."

"You have to ask?" Elliot smiled. "Tails for mermaids."

"And heads," Golden added, "for the dwarves."

Whichever way it landed, they'd immerse themselves in a culture unique from their own, and have a million adventures.

Elliot couldn't wait for the next one to begin.


End file.
